If fiends who have robbed me of sport Should “wire,” to upset me still more, Some fabulous weather report, That _somewhere_ they’ve heard of a thaw, I’d saddle a reindeer or elk, And sleigh myself down to the meet With some couple of Esquimaux hounds―― By gad, we’d be tackle to beat! “Gone away!” What eternity’s hopes To hark to that heavenly word, Were it whispered by mortal or beast, Or bullfinch that’s seen or that’s heard! Heaven’s frost-bitten rafters should ring To my thaw’d “Tally-ho!” for the first, While the “pack” on the “shove,” as they sing,[73] Split pipes in one musical burst. But the cold has got into my chest, And the rime has got into my hair; This manilla is none of the best, So why am I maundering here? There’s water in every place, And water (encouraging thought!) Gives whisky an excellent taste, And reconciles man to it――hot. KING’S CROSS. _The World._ December 31, 1879. ―――― THE LAY OF THE NEW AMEER. I am monarch of all I survey (Tho’ many my right may dispute), From Persia close down to Cathay, I’m lord (so, at least, I compute); I’m ruler from Káfiristan To Beloochee plains in the south, Where travellers reach Serawán, Thro’ Bolan’s leviathan mouth. (_Three verses omitted._) _Funny Folks._ March 15, 1879. ―――― EX-KING CETEWAYO’S LAMENT. I was monarch of all I survey’d; My right there was none to dispute, From the Transvaal down to the sea I was lord both of man of brute. My men I could count by the score; I’d an army devoted to me; Of mealies and tusks I’d a store. I was happy, and savage, and free! Oh, Civilisation! the charms That sages have seen in thy face, I have fail’d to observe; but alarms And dread thou did’st cause in their place. For I’ve found it is part of thy creed The blood of the helpless to spill, And so that thy plans may succeed, To burn, and to ravish, and kill! And, oh, Christianity! blush At the things which were done in thy name; For that they my Zulus might crush, They put thee full often to shame; They robbed the poor neighbours they’re taught By thy laws as themselves they should love. And everywhere ruin they wrought, In the name of that God who is love! They caught me at last, as you’ve read, And I now a State prisoner am; And a wearisome life I have led, Only temper’d with raspberry jam! On the ways of religion and truth, My captors as yet have been dumb, But I notice in age and in youth They are equally fond of ship rum.